


An Ordered Pair

by Hymenoptera



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Forced Relationship, Humiliation, Kink Meme, Leather, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9555719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymenoptera/pseuds/Hymenoptera
Summary: Newlyweds Negan and Michonne “discuss” “morality”.





	

 

Negan whistled a cheerful tune as his longs legs carried him three steps at a time up the staircase. Acquiring new resources and people to serve him always left him with an elated buzz, but he was jittery and tense now, and could only think of releasing his pent-up energy and getting some much needed rest. He’d sent ahead to have Michonne, his newest wife, wait for him in his apartment to tend to him, and he very much looked forward to spending time with her. He carried Lucille across his shoulders, lovingly wrapped in a towel to dry after her usual garden hose shower. He chuckled as a random thought occurred to him, that Lucille even felt heavier in his hands, just as she should’ve…she’d eaten well that day.

Negan walked into his home and smiled at Michonne when she looked up. “Hey,” he greeted her as he placed Lucille onto the leather sofa.

“Evenin’,” she replied, stepping away from the wall she’d been leaning against as he approached her.

He stood before her and smiled down at her as she began her work. She grabbed his arms to examine the state of his unzipped jacket and removed his ruined leather glove, tossing it into the trash bin. Such a beautiful, unique looking girl. She still looked sad, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when she looked so amazing in the skin tight dress she wore, the uniform of all the women he’d personally claimed as his own, and he had to touch her. He played his fingers along hem of the dress, barely long enough to cover her firm round ass, which he palmed possessively. He ran his hands over her belly, moving his hands up and over her toned muscles, visible through the thin fabric, and pressed his thumbs against her large breasts. She moved around him, and out of reach as she removed his jacket, but his hands were on her once again when she stopped to pour warm water from a pitcher into the washbasin.

She sniffled. “Who’d you kill this time?” she asked casually as she wrung excess water from a wash cloth.

He chuckled, “No one you knew.”

He relaxed his needy hands, and let her to take care of him, allowing his eyelids to droop. He was living in a dream world, watching with subdued appreciation as she carefully cleaned blood and grime from his fingers, nails, and skin. She averted her eyes from his gaze as she wiped someone else’s blood from his brow. His salt and pepper beard was in full force once again, only in part due to laziness. Rick Grimes’ beard had been impressive and he wanted to show him out in every which way. He smiled at the thought of how he’d taken her from him, his most capable opponent, the light in his eyes fading when he told him exactly how he intended to use her, in excruciating detail.

She removed his shirt and looked him over for injuries. Finding none, she continued on with her wifely duties, and reached for his belt. His attention focused on her sharply when she suddenly stopped. He grasped her hand and waited for her to speak, she clearly had something on her mind.

Her long lashes fluttered as she brought her gaze to meet his. “Do you think I’d be able to go back and see them soon?” she asked.

“Soon,” he replied, “Maybe in a few more months.”

Her large eyes widened and her rich brown coloring went a bit ashen as she moved to the liquor cabinet to pour a drink. It mildly irritated him, but he figured a sip wouldn’t do her any harm. However, she didn’t drink any of it, and instead placed the highball glass into his hand.

“Is there any way we could move the date up sooner?” she asked, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.

“Why?” he asked, smirking at her as he downed his drink, “Are you ashamed of me?”

She didn’t answer, but took the empty glass from him and placed it onto the counter before she went back to unfastening his belts.

“Hey,” he cooed as he grabbed her hands and moved them up to cradle his face, “Tell me you love me…”

 

**3 Months Ago**

 

She had been shocked to have been brought right back to Alexandria when she’d demanded that the redheaded Savior take her to see Negan. Her sword and messenger bag were confiscated before she was allowed reenter to her own community. They’d all had a good laugh at her expense of course, but she was allowed to roam freely after they’d directed her to Negan’s current location. Rick’s house.

Spencer Monroe’s body lay in a river of his own blood, crumpled at the foot of a pool table out on the road in front of her house. Michonne stood still only momentarily as she watched Rosita crying over his mangled corpse. She felt for her friend, and would’ve gone to her if her heart hadn’t been thumping wildly at the thought of Carl and Judy being trapped in the house with Negan. The Saviors standing guard there did not try to stop her as she rushed up the stairs and into the house, where she found her children sitting in the living room with a terrified Olivia. She hugged Carl tightly to her chest and scooped up little Judy into her arms, planting kisses all along the toddler’s smooth cheeks. Her sense of relief quickly faded as Carl told her where Negan was and why. He did not want her to approach him alone, and begged her to stay with them and wait for Rick to return, but she ordered Carl to stay put.

She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves as she set out to go speak with a lunatic who may very well kill her as soon as come on to her, but she had to face him. To find out what he wanted, to plead for Rick’s life if she had to, anything to get him to leave. She glanced back at her family as she walked away, with an odd, sinking feeling growing within her, that this might be her last time seeing them. She found Negan in her bathroom, cleaning Spencer’s blood off of his face with a towel. He was just as intimidating with his back turned. The harsh vanity lighting washed out his olive skin tone and made his hair look as black as his jacket. After a few breaths, she still hadn’t brought herself to announce her presence to him…he wasn’t aware of her yet. Perhaps she should’ve waited.

Negan’s eyes widened in surprise when he glanced up and spotted her through the mirror. _Fuckin’ rainbows after it fuckin’ rains_ … He pivoted around to look at her, and couldn’t believe his luck, that Rick’s shy little samurai had just crept into the bathroom he occupied, quiet as a church mouse. The hand that held the towel to his face dropped to his side, and he smiled widely, “Well, hello there…”

 

Once at the Sanctuary, Negan wasted no time sending her up to his personal quarters with Arat to consummate their unconventional arrangement. In lieu of Carl losing one of his arms as punishment for ambushing the Saviors, she was to leave her home at once, and join Negan’s harem.

Arat was entirely too excited about the prospect, tossing her keys onto the coffee table as they entered Negan’s suite. “You ready for this?” she asked, grinning as she removed her ponytail holder and let her short curls fall every which way.

Michonne looked around Negan’s loft as Arat strode over to the liquor cabinet, kicking off her boots as she went. It was beautifully furnished and tidy. A large sleigh bed dominated the room, but there was enough space for a stylish lounge area without it feeling too cramped or claustrophobic. Negan was apparently fond of trophies of every kind…trophies everywhere in the form of mounted animal heads, statuettes and chalices, just made her feel even more bitter about the situation. Just another item added to his collection. The varying hues of black and grey were probably meant to be soothing, but did nothing to calm her nerves. Nothing about this place could.

Michonne shrugged, trying her best to seem nonchalant, “I said what I said, didn’t I?” she replied.

“Yeah you did…” Arat grinned as she placed three glasses and a bottle of scotch onto the night stand by the bed. She sauntered over to Michonne and looked her over. Negan certainly had a keen eye for beauty…wide nervous eyes, and some of the prettiest skin she’d ever seen. Arat smoothed her hands over the curves of Michonne’s sculpted arms and touched her hair, pushing her thick dreadlocks back behind her shoulders before cupping her face and capturing Michonne’s mouth in a slow, gentle kiss.

Michonne returned the kiss, parting her lips to allow Arat’s tongue to explore her mouth, but she couldn’t help but tense up when Arat’s hands clamped around her breasts. Arat pulled back to eye her curiously. “You need to loosen up,” she suggested. She turned away with a sigh, and poured some scotch into the glasses.

“Why are you with him?” Michonne asked as she watched Arat bend over and step out of her pants, “Why are you so loyal?”

“Well,” she said as she lifted her tank top over her head, “Negan’s somewhat of a father figure to me.”

 _-Come again?-_ Michonne stared at her, confounded.

Arat giggled at her reaction, and reached out to place Michonne’s hands onto her breasts. “Daddy _always_ gives me what I want…” she purred as she pulled Michonne into another kiss. She inhaled sharply when she felt Arat’s teeth bite into her bottom lip. “Y’know,” Arat remarked as she moved away slightly, “This isn’t as much fun when I’m the only one in my undies.” She yanked at the lattice-laced neckline of Michonne’s burgundy top. “Get that off before he gets here,” she ordered as she turned a way for a moment.

Michonne raised the hem of her shirt above her head and tossed it onto the sofa.

“And,” Arat said, handing her a drink, “You really do need to loosen up.”

Their booze-fueled heavy petting session was heating up nicely after Arat had coaxed Michonne out of the rest of her clothing. She smoothed her hands up Michonne’s thighs and onto her firm rear as Michonne sat above her and finally removed her bra. The sting of envy came along with the urge to sink her teeth into her perfect brown mounds as she watched her. Arat moved her hand down to stroke Michonne’s heat over the fabric of her panties. “Is this ok?” she asked her. “It’s ok if it isn’t just yet.”

“It’s fine,” Michonne replied as she leaned forward to kiss Arat. Michonne barely registered the sound of the apartment door opening and closing as Arat’s hand moved through her hair to press their mouths together.

Negan paused when he entered his apartment, still dressed in the t-shirt and pants that were stained with Spencer’s blood, and stared. His hand tightly clenched around Lucille’s handle as he watched little samurai Michonne, clad only in her black panties, straddling a nude Arat, the two of them engaged in a deep kiss. Their glistening bodies pressed together, caramel against chocolate caused his mouth to water uncontrollably. Michonne froze when she noticed him, and when she sat up, her eyes were immediately drawn to his clothing.

“What?” Negan laughed, “Something about my appearance offend you?”

Michonne rolled her eyes at him and reached for her fourth shot of scotch.

Arat ignored Negan, and wrapped her arms around Michonne. She pulled her down onto the bed and leaned over her. “He’ll take care of you if you let him…” she whispered as she pressed her soft, scotch-flavored lips onto Michonne’s. “You just have to let him.” Arat slowly kissed down Michonne’s belly and removed her panties.

The mattress shifted and bounced when a completely nude Negan joined them, his partially erect penis dangling between his thin legs. Arat cried out when Negan savagely gripped her short hair in his fist, pulling her up and away from Michonne. “Alright, ladies,” he sighed blithely, “Let’s get started.”

Arat hovered above Michonne, poised on all fours as she eagerly presented her ass and pussy for Negan to use as he pleased. He palmed her smooth flesh and slapped her ass before he pushed his stiff cock into her sensitive folds. Long, slow strokes quickly increased in intensity, and Arat moaned wantonly into Michonne’s mouth as the two women kissed. Michonne kept her attention on Arat, and tried to focus on the feel of her silky-smooth skin, and not on how Negan kept trying to catch her eye, or how the obscene slurping sounds of their coupling aroused her. He suddenly pulled out of Arat, and began spanking her like a madman. At one point, Negan slapped Arat’s ass so hard Michonne thought the poor girl was finally going to bow out. She yelped loudly as the force of his last blow sent her lurching forward above Michonne. She threw her arms around Arat to catch her before she could go flying over her and off of the bed. Michonne heard Arat swear under her breath as she held her there for a moment.

When Arat didn’t immediately return to her submissive position, Negan’s eyes flashed with anger as he grabbed her hips and yanked her back towards him, shoving his cock back into her. Her breasts bounced wildly as Negan rocked into her, before she leaned forward to nestle her head against Michonne’s shoulder. Moaning loudly next to her ear now, Arat guided Michonne’s hand down to play with her clit as Negan drilled into her mercilessly. Arat gasped sharply before reaching back, stopping him with a hand on his belly when she came. When she was done with him, he shifted away, letting his heavy organ pop out of her, sticky and coated. Arat rested her brow against Michonne’s, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Negan gripped Michonne’s thigh to pull her closer, and pressed his legs against either side of her hips. Arat brought her nose to Michonne’s and gazed into her eyes as Negan lifted her leg up high enough to graze Arat’s shoulder. She closed her eyes when she felt his bulbous tip press against her opening, residual heat from Arat radiating off of it. Still slick with Arat’s moisture, he started with a few quick shallow thrusts to lube her opening before he carelessly slammed into her, slipping deeper than she was ready for. Michonne’s cries of alarm were muffled when Arat smashed her mouth onto hers, shoving her tongue into her mouth. Arat’s sucking, biting mouth never left Michonne’s as Negan drove the full length of his shaft into her relentlessly, stretching her folds taut to accommodate him. What started out as feeling almost like a punch to the gut, soon gave way to raw, intense need. When Arat reached down between their bodies to fondle her clit, Michonne felt her orgasm quickly build from the tender, burning spot Negan continually bashed against with his cock. When she crested and quaked, Negan used the full strength of his body to plunge into her, forcing his unyielding hardness right through the resistance of her powerful, clenching spasms. Arat’s position against her prevented her from fully cringing, and griping the bedsheets was all she could do to keep from gouging Arat’s skin with her nails. Michonne pulled her face away from Arat, gasping for air and whining softly as Negan kept up his frenzied pace. Arat moved away when a deep growl emanated from Negan’s throat, leaving Michonne feeling chilly and oddly abandoned. It was just the two of them now, with nothing between her and his hungry wild animal stare.

Negan licked his lips as he switched to slow, deliberate strokes, and held Michonne’s gaze for as long as possible. He moved his large hands from her hips to encircle her slim waist, and then a bit higher to feel her breasts jiggle. Out of the corner of her vision, Michonne caught the unmistakable metallic glint of a knife, but was too slow to react. Arat had the weapon at her throat before she could try and twist away.

“Beg for it, bitch,” she hissed into her ear.

“ _Don’t--_ ” Michonne gasped, the pitch of her voice unsteady as Negan refused to miss a single beat, and continued to tirelessly plow into her.

“I meant him,” Arat clarified, pressing the knife against her throat, “Beg _him_ …”

Michonne turned her wide-eyed gaze to Negan and nodded. Her soft voice trembled as she begged him, “Please…”

Negan paused to lean forward, moving his face close to hers and using his hands to keep her thighs up and away from her body. He wedged the head of his cock firmly against her inner depths and began pounding into her with renewed vigor. “Please what?” he panted against her skin as he jackhammered his cock into her pussy. The fever inside was building fast. “Please…” he moaned, “… _what_?”

She grimaced slightly when the pain of his brutal pounding came close to overwhelming the pleasure of it. “Please…” She almost begged him to stop before she felt the cold tip of Arat’s knife press harder against her skin. Michonne moistened her lips. “Please…cum in me…” she breathed as she gripped his dark wavy hair and locked her eyes with his, “Cum inside me… _please_ …” she whispered to Negan over and over through gritted teeth as his thrusts became more and more urgent. A powerfully erotic image to a man like him, of this frightened warrior girl begging him at knifepoint, her tits bouncing lewdly as her fucked her with reckless abandon. He marveled at her ability to grip and knead all thick nine inches of him as she pushed him over the edge… When Negan suddenly erupted, he grunted loudly as he gripped her hips, making sure he was pressed balls-deep inside of her as he shot his load.

Michonne felt Negan’s cock spasm again and again, pumping hot seed into her that overflowed, tickling along her perineum and oozing down the crack of her ass. He collapsed into a panting heap on top of her, resting his sweaty head on her shoulder as he slowed his thrusting to a spasmodic halt. They breathed heavily against each other as he took a few moments to collect himself. Still inside of her, Negan leaned away with a heavy sigh, slowly moving his hands down her small, shapely body. There was no way he’d ever be able to get enough of this woman.

Arat still had the knife pressed to Michonne’s throat. She laughed softly, and exchanged glances with Negan. “New rule…” Arat said.

Negan looked around and found Michonne’s underwear before finally withdrawing his now-flaccid length from her. He slipped the garment over her feet, up her lean legs and lay beside her to wrap his arm under her, lifting her bottom just enough to move it up over the swell of her hips.

“Anytime you fuck Negan,” Arat continued, “You need to beg…enthusiastically, as if it’s the only thing you want in life.” With that, Arat simply tossed the knife onto the mattress and began to get dressed.

Michonne immediately moved away from both of them and glared at the other woman.

Arat furrowed her brow and paused what she was doing. “Lighten up,” she said, grabbing the knife and holding it up. “It’s dull--”

Michonne angrily smacked the knife out of her hand, sending it careening to the far side of the room. She backed away further to press herself against the headboard. The hot gush she felt as Negan’s seed soaked through her cotton panties angered her even more.

Negan sat back on his knees, and watched her raptly.

Arat’s smile faded as she glanced uncertainly between Negan and Michonne. Clearing her throat, she finished putting on her clothes before glancing over at Negan. “I’m gonna go…” she said.

Negan waved her goodbye, and then flopped down onto the bed, hugging a pillow beneath his chest. He smiled up at Michonne, “That was--” he blew out a breath and chuckled, “…You…are dangerous.”

She didn’t move or look at him, and after a moment of waiting, Negan grappled Michonne’s leg and pulled her close to him where he lay. He slid his hand between her thighs, enjoying feel of the sloppy mess he’d created there. His cock began to stir again, just thinking about how he’d taken Rick’s proud and proper warrior, soiling her with his seed. She turned her face away from him.

“Hey…” he said, holding her face still and peering into her dark eyes, “Tell me you love me…”

 

**Present**

 

“No,” she said, pulling her hands away. “I’m not much of an actress or a liar. I could never love someone so immoral.”

“Rick is a killer,” Negan pointed out to her, “We all are.”

“My people kill to protect,” she countered.

“And mine don’t?”

“This whole thing is a farce, an illusion…” she said. Her eyes flashed beautifully with anger as she stared into his. “Forcing women to be with you?”

“Forcing…when were you ever forced?” he asked as his hands moved to caress her backside, “You entered into an agreement.”

Her mouth tightened as she gave him a bewildered look.

“In fact…” he said, pressing against her, “The way I remember it, every time since then, you’ve begged and begged…” he said as he slipped his hand beneath her skirt, grazing his fingers along her bare softness, “…because there’s nothing you want more than to incubate the seed of a living god.”

Negan laughed heartily when she pushed him away and moved to sit in the lounge area of his apartment, staring off into space.

“Illusion or not, I won,” he gloated as he fixed his partially undone belt. “The Saviors are thriving. All societies run on illusions that work to only thinly veil the barbarism they strive so hard to cover up. You’ll play into to mine because that’s what I want. No point in being needlessly depressed about it,” Negan chided as he put on a fresh shirt and zipped his black leather jacket.

He looked through his dresser and donned a new black leather glove before twisting around to glare at her when she did not respond. “You’re giving me the silent treatment now?” he asked as he moved over to his display case. “You’ll come out of your shell sooner or later,” he assured her.

She watched him retrieve from his display case, an item she’d never seen before--a riding crop. Her heart skipped a beat when approached her with it.

“Tell me you love me,” Negan demanded, placing the riding crop onto the coffee table in front of her.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and shifted her gaze from the crop back up to Negan. “You’re not going to hit me,” she said, although her confidence was waning.

He moved closer to loom over her, and despite his beauty, or maybe because of it, looked like a wild animal ready to devour her whole. Michonne suddenly burst into tears.

“Don’t do that…” he scoffed bitterly, “You just _had_ to go there didn’t you?!”

She sobbed quietly as the tears poured down her face, and was getting dangerously close to the verge of hysterics.

Negan knelt beside her and tried to soften his voice, “Look…what I mean to say is, morality does not dictate social or biological success, power does. It was no mistake that you chose Rick…I’m the better option,” he insisted. “You want proof? Look around. Look where you are.”

She covered her face with her hands so she wouldn’t have to see him.

“Stop. Crying,” he said harshly, as his lips pulled away from his teeth.

She could tell he was getting angry, but she couldn’t make herself stop. The steady stream of tears ran down her round cheeks, and dripped off of her jaw, gathering into a small puddle at the crease of her cleavage.

“Shit,” Negan sighed and raked his fingers through his dark hair, mussing it in the process. “Ok, look,” he said, gently pulling her hands away from her face. “We can go sooner…but I need something else from you in return.”

She looked at him then, her flood of tears having died down to a trickle.

“A public declaration of devotion to me. Out on the factory floor, in front of everyone, or you don’t get to see them at all,” he told her.

A simple-sounding request for sure, but she knew him all too well. “And what exactly will that entail?” she asked, her breath hitching.

Negan stood up, his dark green eyes smoldering with the abominable combination of rage and lust he often regarded her with. His small, knowing smile chilled her as he offered her his hand. Imagining the look on Rick’s face if she showed up with a big round belly…chilled her even more. Hesitantly, she took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

 

Carrying the riding crop in his right hand instead of Lucille, Negan escorted Michonne down to the Sanctuary’s bustling factory floor. As they made their way to the center of the warehouse, everyone stopped what they were doing to kneel and bow before them.

“As you were!” Negan commanded loudly.

Negan’s followers rose to their feet and returned to their duties. The buzz of activity continued, although noticeably reduced, as almost everyone was paying attention to them peripherally.

Negan chose a workbench, and unceremoniously knocked everything it held onto the floor before climbing up onto it. Curious eyes flew his way as he kicked off a few remaining items until the bench was clear. Michonne watched with growing anxiety as he stepped towards each corner of the workbench, testing it for stability. He tucked the riding crop under his arm and extended his hand to her, carefully helping her up onto the table.

He pulled her close, and gently nuzzled her soft skin before kissing her passionately. Negan tilted back to look at her before shifting his gaze to glance around the room. Several workers had stopped to look up at them. “I said, _get on with your business_!” Negan said in his loud, booming southern accent.

Michonne flinched away slightly when he raised his hands to pull at the straps of her dress. He stopped her when she instinctively tried to cover herself. “It’s ok,” he said as he held her against him “It’s ok because I say it is.” He pulled the straps down her shoulders and pulled the top of the dress down to her navel, exposing her plump breasts and prominent nipples, so sensitive now that they hardened even when room temperature air hit them.

She closed her eyes and sighed softly when he palmed one of her firm breasts and sucked her nipple into his warm mouth. A few people stopped dead in their tracks to watch as Negan bowed her back to slowly suckle and tug at her dark brown nipples with his teeth. His hands smoothed over her ass as he raised her tiny skirt above her hips to expose her bare bottom. The dress was now nothing more than a band of bundled cloth around her waist.

When he shifted away from her, she couldn’t help but look out at everyone on the main factory floor staring up at her, or trying their very best to carry out their tasks while Negan had her on display.

Negan drew back his arm, and snapped Michonne once cross her bottom with his riding crop.

Forgetting her coyness, she gasped loudly and her hands flew to her smarting flesh. She twisted around to cast him a scornful glare, her large breasts swaying and bouncing as she did so. He grabbed her about the waist before she could topple over her stilettos.

Negan laughed and tossed the crop to the factory floor, “That was just a warning, Michonne. I pray I won’t need to use it again?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

She nodded.

“Get down,” he ordered her. “On your feet, no kneeling…”

Michonne took a moment to process his awkward wording before settling into an easy forward-facing squat. She kept her eyes glued to a spot near her foot while Negan seemed intent on making eye contact with all who watched. She splayed her toned brown legs out to either side of her and rested her elbows on her thighs, no point in trying to hide any part of her body now.

Negan hunkered down beside her and cradled her against his chest. He pushed her dreadlocks aside to gently kiss her neck and smoothed his hand along her leg. “Look at all those jealous assholes wishing they were me,” he said proudly, placing his left hand at her waist. “Or you.” He firmly squeezed the upper most curve of her inner thigh with his gloved right hand, and moved it down to her moist center, tickling her there. He then formed a wide ‘v’ with his index and middle fingers to frame soft, delicate pink with black leather, spreading her labia for all to see.

“You’re runnin’ to the bathroom every five minutes at this point, right? Relax,” he murmured into her ear, “Just…let go…”

She glanced at him in disbelief.

He tilted his head at her and smiled, “Show everyone how beautiful you are…”

Her face burned terribly as she complied. Michonne bore down and produced a high-arching golden stream that sprang from between her thighs. Negan bit at the skin on her neck as her stream landed like heavy raindrops onto the factory floor and then trickled to a stop.

Negan laughed at the looks of sheer shock on most of their spectators’ faces. Aside from his deep, throaty voice echoing throughout the warehouse, not a single sound could be heard throughout the factory, and no one dared to look away. Negan bit his bottom lip and went back to petting her gently before easing two fingers into her tight slit, inching deep enough within her to press against her heavy womb. She shuddered and gripped his thigh when he began moving his fingers in and out, alternating between that and lightly flicking her clit with his thumb, getting her very slippery and engorged. He pressed three fingers to the deepest part of her and stilled his movements, “Now ride,” he whispered to her softly.

She held onto him for balance as she began grinding against his gloved fingers, closing her eyes to block out the dozens--no, _scores_ of wide-eyed gawkers whose full attention she now commanded. As she rode his hand, Negan moved his fingers in slow circles, applying pressure to her most sensitive spots. Her inhibitions fell away as the sensations of wet leather stretching her, gliding in and out of her, overwhelmed her senses. She snapped her eyes open when she felt herself losing her sense of orientation, and with too many strange eyes on her, the only safe place to look was at Negan. She stared into his dark green eyes as her pelvic muscles clenched tightly around his leather-clad digits. Michonne whimpered wordlessly as she reached her quivering pinnacle, collapsing against Negan and completely drenching his glove with her juices. Negan removed his fingers to examine the glove, which had now taken on the gleaming appearance of patent leather, and sank them back into her. He studied the faces of the on-lookers as they stood frozen in place, and beamed at them.

Negan returned his attention to his wife. “How’s that moral high ground feel right about now?” he laughed. “You don’t have to acknowledge your privileged status right away…” he said, keeping his fingers buried within her.

Her soft, shallow intakes of breath became erratic as she watched him with heavy lids. Her eyes focused on his lips as they formed the words he spoke to her, and he never once paused his slow circular rubbing against her womb.

“We can do this every single evening…” he said, strumming his thumb against her clit, “right up until the day you give birth if that’s what it takes.”

She shook her head, absolutely terrified at the notion, yet she began to tremble once more when Negan’s fingers began to work faster. The gentle fluttering in her nether regions intensified, triggering the onset of another series mind-bending spasms. She pursed her lips tightly, fearing any vocalizations at this point would be mortifyingly loud.

“Tell me you love me,” Negan demanded as he roughly jammed his fingers into her as far as they would go, prying apart her walls as they involuntarily tried to clamp shut.

“I love you!” Michonne groaned as she climaxed, digging her nails into his leg. She threw her head back onto his shoulder, and her lithe body undulated uncontrollably as she ground against his hand. “I love you…” she repeated, this time as a soft sob. Negan’s dilated pupils greedily took her in at the height of her perfection. Her back arched away from him as her breast swayed atop her beautifully defined ribcage. Her breathing began to normalize as she came down from her natural high, and she could feel Negan’s heated arousal pressing against her hip as they crouched together.

Negan smiled brightly and hugged her close to him. He kissed along her jaw, cheeks, lips and sighed, immensely gratified. He tilted his head to gaze at Michonne with unbridled adoration, “Of course you do.”

 

**End.**


End file.
